The Difference Between Hawks and Dragons
by Misura
Summary: In which Vlad muses on panic, has lunch with Daymar, and ends up at Castle Black. [shortie]


The difference between Dragons and Hawks

x

Warnings/notes: none, really.

Disclaimer: The wondrous world of Dragaera was created by Steven Brust.

written at 24th march 2005, by Misura, as a failed drabble for the livejournal-community dragaera100 (prompt: Morganti)

xxxxxxxx

As for most things in life, there's a time and place for panicking and making a run for it. Usually, this isn't when the guy you're running away from can use the fact that you've turned your back on him to put a dagger or something equally harmful to your lung's capacity to keep working between your shoulderblades. Also as most things in life, panicking isn't something you should do without having thought it through a little first.

More than anything else, whether or not it's a good idea to panic depends on who or what is causing the reaction. For example, if I'd see Morrolan coming charging at me with Blackwand, I might spend a few seconds to make sure he's not aiming for the person behind me, but once I'd confirmed my first impression, I wouldn't stick around for too long.

True, an enraged Dragonlord's as likely to strike at someone running away as not (depending on whether or not he considers it an insult to his honor that seeing him makes you a bit concerned for your health, and reminds you of an urgent appointment elsewhere). Still, even though Morrolan might hit me with a spell from behind (in which case I have Spellbreaker), I don't see him throwing daggers or anything Jhereg-like like that. Morrolan prefers his fights up, close and personal.

On the other hand, if Morrolan would express a desire to kill me over a cup of wine, while sitting in one of those far-too-comfortable seats that he's filled Castle Black with, I probably wouldn't panic right away. I wouldn't immediately assume he was joking, but I'd figure out what had brought on the comment, and find a way to talk myself back into his good graces. (Not because I'm a coward, but rather because I'm not an idiot, and I like my life, thank you very much.)

Morrolan, needless to say, is not Daymar.

If Daymar would come running at me, waving something stick-like, I might feel vaguely worried about things blowing up, or my office being in need of redecoration shortly, but I wouldn't panic. Call me stupid, if you like; I just believe that Daymar at least knows enough about what he's doing not to kill anyone. Probably. I hope.

Daymar inspires panic when he discusses his latest projects over lunch. His wine's of a lesser quality than Morrolan's -in fact, Morrolan's servants probably drink better wine than Daymar does- mostly because Daymar can't be bothered providing such unimportant comforts for his guests as good food and drink. (I've only made the mistake of having lunch at Daymar's once, so you might assume that that was an exception, but for me, that one time was enough to convince me to never return there again.)

At the time I'm referring to, I'd had a bit of a rough week. (I blame that, as much as Loiosh and Kragar not stopping me, for what happened afterwards.) Lunching with Daymar and chatting about his recent experiments sounded like a good way to relax a little. (Don't say it, all right? I know that -now-.)

Somehow, he sensed I'd used a Morganti-dagger a few days ago. I didn't confirm this when he asked me about it, but Daymar being Daymar, that didn't really make much of a difference. He babbled on a bit, spouting the usual talk about the creation of Morganti-weapons, and why they were something awful; like I said, all of the usual blah-blah.

Then, he mentioned he'd spent a lot of time thinking about this-and-this person's theory, which was a bit too complicated for me to understand (his words, not mine, but I didn't bother to protest) that could be summarized as the idea that for everything in the world, there was an opposite thing.

There's night, as opposed to day, black, as opposed to white, earth, as opposed to water, humans, as opposed to Easterners. I probably looked a bit upset at that last one, since he stopped listing opposites, and skipped on to what he obviously considered 'the good part'.

If a Morganti-weapon -destroyed- a person's soul, Daymar theorized, then there should also be a type of weapon that -created- a person's soul. However, since he'd never even heard of such a weapon, he could only conclude that it had yet to be made. He figured it might be interesting to give it a try.

Morrolan made no comment when I showed up on his doorstep a few minutes later, thus proving that even Dragonlords can have their moments of softness. Either that, or he simply determined from the expression on my face that he'd be better off not knowing.

(I know which explanation I believe, but you're free to make up your own mind.)

x- and it's another failed drabble done-x


End file.
